


Violet and Black

by WitchOfTheWestCountry



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Bestiality (Implied), Demons, F/M, Human Sacrifice, Oral Sex, Pizza, Snakes and ladders, lost virginity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-30
Updated: 2017-06-30
Packaged: 2018-11-21 14:42:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11359572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WitchOfTheWestCountry/pseuds/WitchOfTheWestCountry
Summary: A follow up to my story Violet.Lucas finds Violet a sacrifice and loses his virginity.





	Violet and Black

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kittenmoon21](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittenmoon21/gifts), [DarthFucamus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarthFucamus/gifts).



> Violet is back by popular demand (well, by the demand of kittenmoon21) but DarthFucamus enjoyed Violet’s antics too.
> 
> Not to be taken seriously.
> 
> Oh, and yes, I do know somebody called Kevin......

He needed to find a killer who was also a virgin and who wasn't him.

Violet had been very specific as to what constituted virginity.

“I don't make the rules,” she'd said. “The demons are very clear and extremely old fashioned.”

As far as he could make out, the rules were these:

Non-consensual sex meant you were a virgin, so rapists and pedophiles were fair game.

If you'd only ever had buttsex, it meant you were a virgin.

Gay sex? You were a virgin.

“It's based on ancient laws,” Violet informed him. “Honestly, demons are sticklers for rules and regulations, and they haven't changed for millennia. They're not exactly modern thinkers. I don't approve, but what can I do?”

It was for this reason, and this reason  _ only _ , he told himself, that Lucas had driven two towns over in search of a gay bar.

He'd been surprisingly well received, but after an hour he still hadn't found a suitable sacrifice. Apparently, using the pick-up line “Have you ever killed a man?” garnered some interesting responses, some of which he didn't entirely understand.

By the end of the night, he hadn't found his victim, but he had collected 16 phone numbers.

 

His next stop was going to be the school, or maybe the park, where he hoped to get his hands on a pedophile. As he drove along humming tunelessly to himself he considered what he'd look like - a skinny, furtive guy bundled up under a filthy hoodie, loitering around young children…….

Someone would call the cops quicker than a fat kid chasing an ice cream truck.

Sighing, Lucas turned the van around.

 

Lucas was at a loss for his next course of action. He was about to admit defeat when he remembered Reuben.

Reuben was the son of a local pig farmer who had dropped out of high school when his father had died under mysterious circumstances. The police had never been able to prove that Reuben had been involved, although the signs of a scuffle around the pigpen had been suspicious. Unfortunately there hadn't been enough left of Reuben Senior after the pigs had finished with him to draw any conclusions.

Whilst Lucas had been almost universally reviled at school, Reuben occupied a whole tier of social derision even lower than him. With his strong smell, lazy eye and harelip, Reuben was so far down the pecking order that he almost became invisible.

Lucas went to visit him.

When he pulled up in his truck, Reuben was out on the porch, drinking something out of a clay jug that smelled like turpentine. There was a large pig in a hammock nearby which on closer examination had pink painted toenails and a bow on its tail.

“Hey there, Reuben! Long time no see! How ya doin’?”

Reuben regarded him hostilely.

“Lucas Baker? What the fuck are you doin’ here?” he demanded indistinctly.

“Hey, that ain't very friendly now, is it?” said Lucas. “I was jest passin’ an’ thought I'd drop by an’ see how y’all were doin’.”

“Yeah, well we don't need you an’ yer fancy ways round here,” said Reuben sullenly. “We don't much like visitors.”

“We?” Lucas looked around, wondering who else was there to complicate things.

The pig in the hammock grunted lazily, casting its eye upon Lucas. Was that mascara….?

“Shut the fuck up, Marjorie!” snarled Reuben. “This don't concern you!”

There was an old shotgun leaning against the edge of the porch, and Reuben moved towards it. Lucas got there first and, after a brief struggle, managed to use the butt of it to knock his aggressor out.

As he loaded his potential sacrifice into the back of his truck, Marjorie wandered over to investigate. Lucas could have sworn she winked at him.

 

He knocked on Violet’s door. Part of him expected the house to be empty - that she'd picked up and moved on in his absence, but he was pleasantly surprised when she opened the door.

“Lucas!” she sounded overjoyed to see him. “Back so soon? Surely you haven't found someone already…..”

“Reckon I might’ve.” He jerked his head towards the fan. “He's in there. Anywhere I could, uh, unload him without drawin’ too much attention?”

“Hang on, let me get a look at him.”

Violet stepped out of the door. She wore nothing but an oversized t-shirt that just skimmed the underside of her ass, and Lucas walked slowly behind her, admiring the view.

He opened the back doors of the van and Violet peered in. She stared at the unconscious man, wrinkling her nose at the smell of him.

“A pig……? Well, it takes all sorts I suppose. I’d better make sure Marjorie is well taken care of, too - she deserves that much.”

She turned to Lucas, her approval written clearly in her smile.

“He's perfect, darling! You've outdone yourself. And so fast, too! Aren't you clever?”

It was absurd, but her praise made him feel bashful, and he ducked his head down to hide his flushed cheeks. The toe of his sneaker scraped at the ground in front of him.

“If you drive round the back, there's a little road that leads to my back gate. We can unload him there.” Violet patted his arm. “Off you go.”

 

Reuben lay on Violet’s living room floor. Lucas stared down at him.

“Can I maybe….stay an’ watch?” he asked uncertainly.

“What on earth for?”

Lucas shrugged.

“Jest curious, I guess. Wanna see what woulda happened to me if I hadn't been infected.”

“Well…..” Violet regarded him thoughtfully. “I suppose it won't do any harm. But you must be very quiet and keep still. And don't interrupt!”

“I won't,” promised Lucas.

Violet nodded and began to clear the floor in preparation. Lucas watched her bustling around, feeling like he should help, but shit…..She looked so fucking good as she bent and stretched, flashing a peek of panty-clad ass here, a cheeky glimpse of titty there. It was all he could do to stand still.

She pushed the armchair to the edge of the room, bending over it and shoving it with both hands. The chair legs made a vibrating, rasping noise as they juddered over the wooden floor, drowning out the involuntary noise Lucas made in his throat at the pretty picture he got between the V of her legs, the fabric of her panties pulled up snug against her pussy lips.

She turned, giving him an arch look. He had a hard-on that was well hidden by the hem of his hoodie, but he thought she probably knew it was there.

“Sit there,” she directed, pointing at the armchair. “And whatever you do, don't move out of your seat once the ritual has begun. It could be very dangerous, despite your condition.”

“Yes ma’am,” said Lucas, doing as he was told.

Violet bent to screw the hooks into the eyelets in the floor. The front of her t-shirt gaped, rewarding Lucas with a perfect view of her impressive breasts, round and creamy with pink tips. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

“What you're about to see won't be pleasant….” Violet warned him. “Unlike what you're seeing now.”

She looked up at him, an impudent smile touching her lips, fully aware of where his gaze was directed.

“I can handle it,” he squeaked, feeling the blood rushing to his face.

“I'm sure you can,” she remarked.

Lucas groaned as she went back to work. Everything she said seemed to be sexual. If she offered to cut his fucking toenails he was sure she'd make it sound smutty somehow. He was totally out of his depth, like a horny schoolboy getting his first lap dance.

Violet dragged Reuben easily into the centre of the floor, securing his wrists and ankles with wire like she had Lucas.

“Uh….Violet?” Lucas didn't want to appear too eager, but he was dying to know. “D’you remember what you promised me in return for finding yer sacrifice?”

“How could I forget?” said Violet, twisting the last piece into place. “I've been looking forward to it immensely.”

“So yer offer still stands?”

Lucas felt like he wanted something in writing.

“Of course. I'm a woman of my word. Sadly, it won't be tonight, though. I'm not allowed to eat, drink or fuck for 12 hours either side of a sacrifice. I'm not sure why. There could be a physiological reason for it, or it could be jealousy. Kevin has been trying to get into my knickers for over a century.”

“Kevin?”

“The demon I sacrifice to. What, you think they all have fancy names? I'll have you know that Kevin is a very ancient, satanic name, soaked in the blood of murderers for millennia. Unfortunately, as far as I can understand, someone once heard it out of context and liked the sound of it. Named their son Kevin. And Boom! Suddenly we have men running around named after a powerful, bloodthirsty demon. Funny, really.” She shrugged. “Oddly enough, I used to know a man named Kevin. Utter cunt.”

She straightened, her glorious tits hidden from view again.

“Well, that's done. I'd better go and get changed.”

 

Left alone, Lucas adjusted his cramped penis into a less awkward position. He was disappointed that he wouldn't be losing his virginity tonight, but also slightly relieved. Violet was an intimidating woman, and although of course he  _ desperately  _ wanted to fuck her, he was also a tiny bit scared.

This wasn't just any woman: This was a powerful, confident sexy witch with over a hundred years of sexual experience under her belt, and he was just a skinny, psychopathic, virginal swamp boy with an ugly face and a personality to match.

Feeling sorry for himself, Lucas looked down at Reuben.

“Yer almost lucky, buddy.” He told the unconscious man. “I betcha Marjorie didn't have no high expectations…..”

Violet came back into the room, clad in her almost transparent gown. The fabric whispered against her legs as she walked, her hair falling in glossy, ebony ripples down her back. She moved around the room, lighting candles.

“Why do you wear that thing?” asked Lucas. “Is it some sort of ceremonial robe?”

“What, this? No. Kevin likes me to wear it. To be honest, I think he's a bit of a pervert, but then most demons are.”

She turned out the overhead light, plunging the room into tasteful ambient lighting. The candles backlit her perfectly, her shape clearly visible through the robe.

“Right. Here we go. Don't be afraid, Lucas - Kevin isn't here for you.”

She began her muttering like before. Lucas tried not to be nervous, but even though he couldn't make out the words she spoke, something about the way the syllables hit his ear made him feel incredibly uncomfortable. The sounds were  _ wrong _ somehow, the vowels too long, the consonants too clumsy and awkward. There was a guttural tone to them that grated, made them unnatural and sinister, although he couldn't have said why.

Events unfolded the way he remembered: The chill, the smell, the lengthening shadow. The atmosphere pressed heavily onto the crown of his head, pushing him into his chair, gluing his tongue to the roof of his mouth. Reuben shifted uneasily on the floor, still out cold but evidently influenced by the proceedings, his muscles tensing and relaxing.

Violet alone appeared unmoved, her gown drifting about her body in the wake of some invisible force.

Kevin formed, as dense and threatening as previously. Despite his discomfort, Lucas had to stifle a giggle at the creature's name. The demon hunched over its victim, an awful spider-like motion in its crouching, half-solid limbs.

“How about this one?” Violet’s voice was clear and comfortable, unaffected by the demon's presence.

“Pig-fucker,” intoned Kevin in his hollow voice. “That’ll do nicely.”

Lucas winced as the shadowy figure loomed over the prostrate man, a mouth forming in the middle of its excuse for a face. It clamped down on Reuben’s head, all but swallowing it, the man's skull crunching as the demon jerked, a grim sucking noise emitting from the depths of the roiling mass.

Reuben’s body began to shrivel, caving in on itself, the arms and legs withering first as Kevin drained his very life force. A muffled scream sounded from somewhere within the engulfing shadow, and Lucas realised that Reuben was aware, on some level, of what was happening.

Kevin pulled back from the ruined body. A low rumbling noise like a monstrous belch resounded around the room.

“Tasty?” inquired Violet politely.

“Fucking delicious,” commented Kevin, his voice itching inside Lucas’s skull.

“Ah, good. I'm so glad.”

There was an awkward silence.

“I suppose you're very busy,” hinted Violet eventually. “Have to be getting on, yes?”

The demon hesitated.

“I'll be off then.”

“See you next year!” said Violet brightly.

“Of course. Unless you, uh…..”

The demon had very little in the way of facial features, but somehow it managed to look suggestive.

“No,” said Violet firmly. “I don't think so, Kevin.”

“Oh. Ok. Fair enough.”

The demon dwindled, shrinking in on itself.

“Call me…?” The voice was an afterthought, bouncing off the walls, diminishing as it went.

“Fuck off, Kevin,” muttered Violet. “Honestly, he really is a dreadful pest.”

 

Violet looked down at Reuben’s body.

“Better get rid of this, I suppose.”

Lucas struggled out of his chair.

“I'll take care o’ it, if ya want,” he offered.

“Really?”

“Yeah. Jest tip it in the swamp. Done it lotsa times.”

Violet smiled at him, giving him a pain behind his ribs.

“That's incredibly kind of you. Don't think i don't appreciate this, Lucas.”

She drifted up to him. She smelled spicy, somehow, and delicious, and just standing next to her made Lucas feel lightheaded.

“You really are lovely, Lucas,” she murmured. “In your own way. You may not think so, but there's something about you…..”

She trailed off, the palm of her hand grazing his cheek, rasping against his stubble.

“I really am looking forward to tomorrow. Don't doubt it for a second.”

She placed a careful kiss on the corner of his mouth. He sighed, his body going limp even as his dick did the opposite.

“Until tomorrow, then.”

She gave him a little wave as she left the room.

Grimly, Lucas began to undo the wires holding Reuben’s corpse.

 

What was left of the pig-fucker was light with all its juices drained. Lucas hefted the leathery  remains easily, the twisted, dried up limbs scratching at the walls stiffly as he struggled to get it through the door. He tossed it into the van, watching it skid across the floor, and wondered if the gators would even want this man-jerky.

Shrugging, he climbed into the van and drove off, Reuben’s body sliding around annoyingly in the back.

 

Dog-tired after his busy day, Lucas climbed the ladder into his attic, slumping down full length on the old couch he'd dragged up there. He stared up at the cobweb choked rafters above him, thinking about the events of that evening.

He'd stopped believing in God long ago, but the existence of Kevin and his like gave him pause. If God's opposite element was real, did that mean God was also real after all?

If so, fuck Him. Any omnipotent entity that would allow Eveline to exist was no fucking friend of his, despite his enjoyment of his special powers. That asshole also hadn't made life easy for Lucas when he was a kid, what with all the bullying and hospital visits. 

Lucas looked down at the old rug on the wooden floor that covered a stain only he knew about, and smiled. God hadn't helped Oliver, either…..

He adjusted the thin pillow under his head, trying to get comfy. Despite his weariness, he couldn't sleep, and the exhausted springs underneath him were poking into his back.

Sighing, he unzipped his jeans. Fuck it, why not? He deserved one after the day he'd had….

Lucas dragged his cock out through his fly, pushing the waistband of his jeans down a little farther. He was already semi-hard, his dick no idiot, knowing what was going to happen. He spat on his hand to ease the way and wrapped his fist around Little Lucas.

He thought about Violet, re-examining every little detail he could remember, every little glimpse, starting from the seat of her panties stretched over the firm globes of her ass cheeks as she'd rolled up the rug.

Lucas started to stroke himself, taking his time, teasing himself to full hardness. He relived the moment she'd pushed the armchair across the floor, her legs opened, the little crease of flesh in her panties clearly defined against the cloth. In his mind he put his hand there, feeling her heat against his fingers.

“Oh, yeah….” he muttered, forming a ring with his thumb and middle finger and snagging it up tight behind his helmet, tightening his grip slightly. He closed his eyes to focus better, the porn behind his eyelids playing out as Violet pushed her hips back against his hand, sighing as his fingers explored the gap of her pussy through the cloth. He was aware that he should probably find her clit or something, but this was his fucking fantasy and he didn't have to if he didn't feel like it.

His mind turned her round, the neckline of her t-shirt bagging out so he could see her tits. He could only imagine what they felt like, and he did so quite happily, rolling a nipple between his fingers as she moaned.

“Fuck….” he muttered, easing up with his hand, taking deep breaths to stave off his approaching finish. The veins beneath his fingers strained, his cock twitching, and he gritted his teeth, lying motionless till he'd calmed down. He hadn't even gotten to the good parts and he was about to blow his load!

Irritated with himself, he pictured her getting down on her knees, her gorgeous mouth sliding over the knob of his cock, looking up at him as her tongue swirled around the tip.

“Shit!” he snarled as his dick pulsed in his hand, hot spunk spurting out over his knuckles and belly. The image had been too much, and he cursed himself and his impatience as his hips jerked involuntarily against the sagging couch cushions.

Annoyed, he flicked jizz from his hand, watching it spatter against the attic wall. It joined countless other dried up stains speckled there over the years. He wiped his fingers on the sofa. If he couldn't control himself in his imagination, what hope did he have in real life?

He mopped his belly with an old rag and lay back, waiting 5 minutes before starting all over again. He was gonna teach himself to hold back if it was the last thing he did….

  
  


The following evening he was accosted by Eveline as he tried to leave the house.

He'd attempted to clean himself up a bit with a gnarled scrap of soap but there hadn't been hot water in the house for two years and the end result was that he looked and smelled pretty much the same as he did before. Discouraged, he sloped down the stairs and made for the dog head door.

“Lucas.”

He stopped dead halfway through, his lips peeling back from his teeth in anger.

“What, Eveline?” he asked in as pleasant a voice as he could manage.

“Where are you going? I want you to play with me.”

“Aw, well I can't right now, honey - I got stuff to do.”

“What ‘stuff’?”

Lucas thought.

“I saw a homeless person sleepin’ under the bridge jest last night. Looked young ‘n’ strong. Thought he might make a good addition to our little family here!” he said with crazed cheerfulness.

“Yay!”Eveline cheered. “Go get him, then. Oh, and Lucas?”

“Yes darlin’?”

“You better bring him back or I'll be mad…..”

“Ok, no problem Eveline. Bye!”

Swearing silently, Lucas stomped out the door. Fer fuck’s sake. Now he had to find a bum to bring back.

He climbed into the van, slamming the door shut irritably. Where was he gonna find a victim on such short notice? He normally hunted the neighbouring towns, not wanting to be recognised in Dulvey.

“ _ Hey, ain't that crazy Lucas? I thought he'd disappeared! Let's go piss ‘im off…..” _

He shook his head. He didn't have time to go far. There were some isolated farms on the edge of town, one if them would have to do.

 

He couldn't take the old man - he'd told Eveline the guy had been young.

Lucas lurked in the cornfield, feeling like a fucking scarecrow, his trusty chunk of pipe clutched in his hand, a length of rope looped over his shoulder. The old man's grandson was around - he'd caught a glimpse of him walking round the house - but d’you think that fucker would come outside?

Shit.

Asshole had to come out eventually. The family smoked out back, and just about everyone had ducked outside since he'd been there - all except his target.

Lucas stabbed his pipe into the soft, black earth beneath his feet. He thought of Violet, sitting there in her house waiting for him, wearing something slinky and lacy and sexy. He groaned.

“C’mon, man…..!”

Fuckin’ Eveline. Crazy little bitch wouldn't let him be. Tonight of all nights!

Lucas wanted to have a cigarette but was worried about the smoke would give him away. Instead he consoled himself with pissing over the cornstalks, happily picturing the family sitting down to eat an ear of corn fertilized by his second hand coffee.

The grandson appeared on the back porch, lighting a cigarette with a fancy Zippo.

Yes! Lucas shook off and tucked his dick away, snatching up his pipe and creeping through the corn. The young man was staring off in the opposite direction, scratching his balls as he admired the sunset.

“That's right, asshole, you keep lookin’ over there…..” he muttered as he left cover and sneaked across the patch of dirt at the back of the house.

He was raising the pipe ready when his foot touched the bottom step, the wooden plank creaking loudly. The man turned, dropping his cigarette and screaming like a girl.

“Shut the fuck up!”

Lucas charged up the steps, taking aim as the young man cringed.

The grandfather appeared in the doorway, kicking open the screen door with one of his clodhoppers, levelling the shotgun he was holding at Lucas.

“Drop the weapon, motherfucker!” yelled the old man. 

Lucas stared down the twin barrels of the gun, seeing all his plans for the evening piss away.

“I do not fuckin’ need this right now!” he shouted, taking a swing at the younger man.

The shotgun’s report was loud in the rural setting, the bang echoing over the fields and sending birds flying up in panic. Lucas felt a hot pain in his stomach and looked down to see blood soaking into the shredded, scorched fabric of his hoodie.

“Goddammit!” He hurled his pipe at the old man's face, hearing a satisfying crunch as it broke his nose before he turned and ran back into the corn.

 

Regenerative powers or not, getting shot in the stomach fucking hurt, and Lucas clutched at his abdomen, bending over as he ran. He could hear the sounds of an approaching siren, and wanted to kick his own ass when he remembered that the farm was slap dab next to the local sheriff's office.

“Fuck!” he spat for the umpteenth time that day.

He slumped down amidst the stalks to rest, feeling the pain begin to ease and the blood stop flowing. His internal organs tingled as they healed, his skin itching as it knitted together.

All his plans had turned to shit. He wasn't going to get laid, Eveline was going to be pissed at him, and there were police out there searching for him.

He lurched to his feet, rubbing his belly. There were more sirens now as an ambulance pulled up outside the farmhouse. An ambulance for a broken nose? He could only hope the old man had had a heart attack. Serve the fucker right.

Mournfully, he surveyed the scene. There were armed police, EMTs, and hysterical farmers between him and his van.  It looked like Lucas was going to be walking home.

Dragging his feet, he began to trudge across the field.

 

There was a large black car driving down the dirt road. Wearily, Lucas ducked back into the cover of the cornfield waiting for it to pass, but to his annoyance it stopped directly opposite from where he hid.

“Fuck off…..” he snarled between clenched teeth.

But the car didn't budge. Lucas glared at the tinted windows, flinching with surprise as the passenger door swung open.

Violet sat in the driver's seat, leaning across and peering into the corn.

“Lucas? Get in,” she instructed.

Dumbfounded, Lucas obeyed, flinging himself into the hand-tooled interior.

Violet smiled at him.

“All right, Lucas? You have been in the wars, haven't you, poor thing….”

“How did you know…..?” he began, then shook his head. “Never mind.”

She patted his knee.

“Let's get you home.”

 

There was a roadblock up ahead and Violet was driving straight for it.

“Uh, Violet? D’ya maybe wanna go another way?” suggested Lucas peering worriedly at the assembled cop cars.

“No, it's fine. I'll handle it,” said Violet, unconcerned.

“But the pigs….!”

“Trust me, Lucas. Just do what you did last night: Keep still and be quiet. I've got this.”

Violet pulled to a halt and wound down her window. The young cop leaned down to look into the car, his eyes widening when he saw her.

“Can I help you, officer? What's all the fuss about?”

“Oh….uh…..” The cop faltered. “We're on the lookout for an armed fugitive, ma’am.”

“Really? How exciting!”

“He's a very dangerous man,” countered the cop earnestly. “Tried to murder two farmers near here!”

“Oh my goodness,” said Violet, suitably alarmed. “What does he look like?”

The cop fumbled for his notebook, his eyes flicking from Violet’s face to her breasts furtively. His glance fell on Lucas momentarily, but slid over him without interest.

“Well, he's about 6 feet tall, slight build, dirty and unkempt in appearance…..uh…..prolly in his twenties…..says here prematurely baldin’....”

In the passenger seat Lucas felt his face flush at the unflattering description.

The cop continued.

“Blue eyes….. victim said he was a cold, ugly lookin’ sonofabitch.” The cop laughed. “He's wearin’ beige pants and a green hooded LCS sweater. Also has a shotgun wound, so there'll be a lotta blood…..”

The cop looked directly at Lucas as he spoke, unseeing. His gaze turned back to Violet, his face twitching guiltily as he glanced at her cleavage again.

“Well, I haven't seen anyone of that description,” said Violet.

“Ya mind if we check the rest of the vehicle?”

“Be my guest!”

The cop wandered to the back of the car, opening the trunk.

Violet smiled at Lucas.

“What the fuck……? He don't see me!”

“Of course not. I won't let him.”

“Well I'll be dipped in shit! That there's a damn useful talent you got.”

“Ssh! He's coming back….”

The cop leaned into the car again, getting far closer than necessary.

“Well, everything's in order, ma’am. I would suggest you gimme yer number, though, just in case there are further developments……”

“Really? Very well….”

“Maybe….uh….maybe you should type it directly in my phone, here, so I don't lose it…” said the cop hopefully, handing her his cellphone.

Violet took it obligingly, her thumbs moving as she typed. She handed it back to him, his face breaking into a broad grin.

“Thanks for yer help, ma’am,” he said, tipping his hat as she pulled away.

 

“You gave ‘im yer number?” said Lucas, feeling slightly jealous.

“Oh, no. I just altered his mother's contact details. The way I see it, if he's a respectful gentleman the worst that will happen is some confusion. However, if he's the type to send dick pics and demand nudes, I foresee some very awkward family dinners on the horizon……”

 

The car pulled up outside Violet’s house and Lucas staggered gratefully inside. He'd been through all kinds of shit but tonight could only get better.

“How is your injury?” Violet inquired.

“Pretty much gone now,” said Lucas, rubbing his stomach sadly through the shredded cloth of his hoodie.

“I must say, I'm curious. May I see?”

Without waiting for permission, Violet hitched up his hoodie and the t-shirt he wore underneath. The skin of his abdomen was slightly pink, dappled with shiny patches of healed skin, but smooth.

“Very interesting…..When we've a little time, you must tell me how you came about your remarkable powers,” Violet mused, dropping his top.

She put her hands on her hips and regarded him critically.

“Well I'd say, looking at you, that you need a decent meal, a hot shower, and a very thorough fucking. Lucky for you, I can supply all three of those. The bathroom is at the top of the stairs.”

 

As he came down the stairs after his shower, the savoury smell of pepperoni filled the house.

It was good to be clean again. Violet had supplied him with a change of clothes, the sort he'd always favoured but far better quality. He'd had access to hot water and expensive soap, and the huge fluffy towel he'd used to dry himself had made him feel like he was being cuddled by a bear.

It was a lifestyle he'd happily get used to, given the chance.

Violet sat on the couch, her legs folded under her as she sipped something red from a large glass. Lucas assumed it was wine, but you couldn't tell with her.

The comfy armchair had a small table in front of it that held 3 bottles of beer, a large pizza box, and several greasy takeout cartons. More excited than he cared to admit, Lucas threw himself in the chair and reached for the nearest one. He groaned in almost sexual ecstasy: mozzarella sticks from the Dulvey Pizza Company, the best ever. And bbq chicken wings. His all time favourites alongside the pizza.

“How did you know?” he asked, grabbing four mozzarella stìcks and stuffing them in his mouth in one go.

“I have my ways, as you know,” she smiled, watching him rip open the pizza box and tear off a slice.

Lucas hadn't eaten decent, hot _ fresh _ food in 3 years, and the first bite of pizza damn near gave him an erection. He moaned.

“Holy fucking shit…..”

He continued to eat, barely tasting it in his hurry to get as much into his stomach as fast as he could. At some point during his second slice Violet opened one of the beers, and he guzzled it down eagerly. It wasn't the piss-weak local stuff his dad favoured, but some classy craft beer that slid down his throat like angel's tears. He was halfway drunk by the end of the first bottle.

Somewhere along the line he realised she wasn't eating and became embarrassed at his gluttony and evident lack of manners, but when he glanced at her she was smiling indulgently, apparently pleased that he was enjoying his meal.

Lucas finished the last piece of chicken, sucking barbecue sauce from his fingers, wiping his hands and mouth clumsily with the fine linen napkin she'd provided. He started on his 3rd beer that she'd obligingly opened for him, and as he took a sip she nudged an ashtray and a pack of cigarettes towards him.

Lucas had been smoking crappy own rolled cigarettes for months, and the sight of the pack of Marlboro nearly made him weak with gratitude.

He shook one from the pack and slotted it between his lips, searching for his lighter and realising it was in the pocket of his jeans on the bathroom floor.

“Allow me.” Violet leaned over, clicking her fingers, and Lucas stared in amazement as a flickering yellow flame spurted from the end of her finger. Cautiously, he leaned over and lit up.

“That was fuckin’ awesome,” he told her, eyeing her as he smoked. He couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten so much, and his belly was a little round ball under his hoodie. “Thanks.”

“No problem. I haven't entertained in a while. It's nice to have company.”

Lucas slouched down in the armchair, getting comfy. He was well-fed, clean and was going to get his dick wet. Life was fuckin’ grand at that precise moment.

“You're actually pretty nice for someone who makes sacrifices to demons,” he observed.

“Well, yes, I'm not evil  _ per se _ . But sometimes one has to do unpleasant things in order to survive.” She watched him over the rim of her glass. “I imagine you'd know all about that.”

Lucas shrugged. He was feeling fucking great and didn't want to talk about his home life with her.

Violet nodded. She understood.  Of course she did. She knew every little thing about him. He blushed, remembering how he'd jerked off at the thought of her the night before, wondered if she knew about that. Her mouth was twitching at the corners. She knew, all right.

Lucas felt his eyelids growing heavy, and jerked in his seat.

“What did you put in it?” he demanded, staring at the empty boxes with their smears of cheese and sauce. Had she fucking drugged him again?

Violet smiled.

“Nothing, dear. What you're feeling is contentment. Just go with it. Relax for once.”

“But we're gonna fuck….” he protested sleepily.

“There's plenty of time for that.”

Lucas felt her gently remove the cigarette from between his unresisting fingers as he dozed off.

 

When he woke up he was in the biggest bed he'd ever seen, the mattress so soft he felt like he was sinking into a cloud. The covers were made of some silky fabric that slipped deliciously against his bare skin.

Da fuq? When did he get naked? Had they done it already? Shit, had he missed it?

Still unspeakably drowsy, he turned his head to the side. Violet was sat on the bed next to him,reading by candlelight. Feeling his attention, she smiled down at him.

“It's ok, Lucas. Everything's fine. Sleep. You haven't had a decent sleep in years have you? Don't worry, I'll be here when you wake up.”

Had she put him to bed and undressed him? Bitch was strong, he'd say that for her. Turning over, he snuggled up to the huge, puffy pillows, and went back to sleep.

 

When he woke up again daylight was just beginning to extend golden fingers of light between the curtains. Lucas needed to piss something dreadful but at the same time realised Violet was lying in bed with him, fast asleep and completely naked.

His dick twitched at the mere outline of her body under the silky sheets and he could feel the heat coming off her bare skin.

Lifting the covers cautiously he took a peek underneath. She lay on her side with her back to him, the elegant curve of her spine tattooed with some kind of serpent that trailed the entire length of it, the head finishing up at the nape of her neck, the snake's tongue extended towards her jugular.

He lifted the covers a little higher and moaned quietly at the sight he beheld, her hips flaring out from her small waist, her ass two great cushiony swells of peachy flesh.

His dick was fully hard now, but his bladder nagged at him, reminding him of more mundane matters.

“Ok, shut the fuck up,” he muttered, slipping carefully out of bed and making his way to the en suite bathroom, his hard-on leading the way like a divining rod.

His dirty clothes had gone from the floor, but he paid that no mind. He'd caught sight of himself in the mirror over the sink.

His eyes had lost that haunted look, the dark circles lightened, the flesh around them filled out so they lost their sunken appearance. His face looked softer, too, the severe angles of starvation and hardship rounded out. Even his skin had a healthier hue, flushes of pink tinting what had been grey and sickly looking. And his hairline…. Had it come forward slightly? He'd been receding since he was a fucking teenager, it wasn't possible his goddam hair had started to grow back!

Witchcraft, he thought. Quite literally.

He dragged his gaze from the mirror and the new-look Lucas that stared back at him, still scrawny and fuck ugly but somehow more agreeable.

He pissed for a thousand years and went back to bed.

 

As he climbed under the covers with her she turned over to face him, her eyes opening. He gazed down into the inky depths of her irises, the opposite end of the scale to his pale blue ones.

Fuck, she was beautiful. He'd never seen a woman like her his entire life, not even on tv.

Seeing her awake, he suddenly felt shy. She was 130 years old. She'd probably been with so many men she'd lost count, and yet here she was in bed with a skinny, awkward asshole like him who didn't know what the fuck he was doing.

He wanted to touch her, but he felt like he should be worshipping her instead.

She scooched over towards him, unaware of his dilemma, the soft, warm texture of her skin coming into contact with him.

“Are you ready now?”

She reached out.

“Ah, yes. You are…...”

Lucas squirmed, feeling embarrassed at how stiff his prick was yet strangely proud. It poked her firmly in the hip but she ignored it for now, leaning over and kissing him.

After an evening of drinking wine and a night's sleep she should have tasted like pickled eggs, but she tasted fruity, somehow, and sweet, her lips a perfect cushion against his own.

He felt her hand slip over the knobby bone of his hip, pulling him closer to her, his erection trapped between their bellies, her breasts two soft weights pressing into his chest.

Delirious, he sucked her full bottom lip into his mouth, pressing his teeth into it - not to hurt her, but to feel the perfect squash of it, the springy pressure reminding him of eating plums.

She casually threw her leg over his, the damp heat of her pussy touching his thigh, and he pressed the long muscle against her, feeling the dew of her sex trickle over him, letting his hand wander down to the broad expanse of her ass, clenching the firm flesh in his fingers.

He didn't know where to start. There was so much of her, silky and smooth and warm and wet all at once, each part of her as delectable as the other, from the perfect dimple of her cunt to the tender pout of her mouth. He felt like he had last night, faced with the food, wanting it all at once and knowing he had to take it a bit at a time. He wanted to bury his face in her, absorb her, swallow her whole.

He made a sound, some sort of pathetic whimper, and she stroked his back comfortingly, her hips tilting and rocking as she rubbed the slick rim of her pussy against his thigh.

“You're worried, but you shouldn't be,” she whispered, her lower lip faintly bruised and even fuller from his attention. “Let me take care of everything…..”

He buried his face in the place where her neck met her shoulder, breathing in her scent. He felt drunk and desperate.

Violet folded her arms around him, canting her hips so his hard-on brushed the silky hair that covered her lips. She wasn't shaved down there like all the women he'd seen online, but for some reason it seemed right. She ground her pelvis lazily against him, and he felt his cock twitch in response.

“Careful,” he warned. “Or I'll come all over you…..”

She laughed.

“I wouldn't mind.”

“What should I do?” he found himself asking.

“What do you want to do?” countered Violet.

“Everythin’……” he admitted.

“Very well. We shall.”

 

Violet rolled him, uncomplaining, onto his back, straddling his hips. He could feet her heat against his balls as she sank full length onto him, her lips wandering from his face to his neck to his chest. Her fingernails were raking gently over his ribs as she bit one of his nipples, catching him confusingly between pain and pleasure. She was working her way downwards, dragging her mouth over the shiny scars of his shotgun wound from the night before. He closed his eyes as she went further, her breath tingling against his skin. Jesus fuck, he was gonna get his cock sucked. Halle-fuckin’-lujah.

By the time she reached his dick he was in such a state he was surprised he didn't cum straight in her pretty face, but his practice by himself seemed to be working. Her tongue touched the base of his cock, drawing a delicate trail up his shaft to the tip and back down again. Lucas gripped a handful of the satin sheets, risking a look down. He groaned at what he saw, her pink pointed tongue touching the veiny flesh that was surely one of the ugliest things god had seen fit to put on the outside of the human body, yet Violet had her eyes closed as if in bliss, licking it like it was a fucking ice cream. She pouted her lips forward in a kiss, the faint suction making it throb, before moving her mouth upwards and repeating it. Slowly, she methodically kissed every inch of his dick, varying the intensity so that sometimes he barely felt it, as though a breeze had blown past, and sometimes bestowing hot, wet smooches that burned him to the root.

Lucas moaned when she opened her eyes, looking right at him, deliberately extending her tongue and swirling it around the dense flesh at the top, lapping up the clear beads of pre-cum and painting it round her lips.

She dropped him a wink, a sly smile dimpling her cheeks as she opened her mouth and slid it around the head of his prick, her lips forming a tight seal behind the helmet, and he felt her tongue in action again, licking in a circle before taking in his entire length.

Shiitt…..his head ground into the pillow as she started to suck, deep throating him with an ease that was shocking.  His ass rose off the bed involuntarily, pushing upwards into the searing channel of her throat, her teeth grazing him slightly in a way that only seemed to enhance what she was doing. There was no fucking way he'd be able to hold out under this onslaught. Unable to speak coherently, he tapped out, hitting the mattress under his hand in a panic. 

“Stuh…..nuh…. I ca….nuh…..”

Apparently understanding, she pulled back.

“Oh fuck….” said Lucas hoarsely. “I nearly…..holy shit….”

She waited for him to calm down, rubbing his thigh comfortingly, and when she was confident he had himself under control, started again, gentler this time. He uttered a helpless sob, reaching down to put a hand on the back of her head, stroking the silky hair as her head bobbed in a shallow rhythm.

“Oh, fuck, Violet…..don't make me cum in yer mouth….I don't wanna……” He groaned as she lifted her chin, looking him straight in the eye. “Please…..I can't…..”

Taking pity on him, she pulled away completely, crawling up his body, settling her weight flat on him. When she kissed him this time, he could taste himself, a musky flavour that didn't disgust him as much as he'd thought it would. Her mouth wandered over his lazily, savouring his lips and his tongue.

“Why don't you touch me, Lucas?” she murmured. “I know you want to…”

He tried to answer, but she was grinding against him, glimpses of pussy skidding against his cock.

She sat upright, grabbing his hands and placing them firmly on her tits.

“There you go,” she said brightly. “Knock yourself out.”

He squeezed hesitantly, the soft, malleable flesh under his hands warm and inviting. Her nipples were stiff peaks grazing his palms, the weight of them heavier than he'd expected. He muttered some oath under his breath, his eyes wide as he groped her.

“Isn't that nice?” she purred. She tilted her hips, the tip of his cock nudging against the moist opening of her pussy.

“Are you ready, Lucas? This is the big moment…..”

“Yuh….” he managed faintly.

She leaned forward, angling her pelvis, and before he'd fully realised had happened, he was inside her, the tight sheath of her cunt swallowing his dick. Her muscles flexed around him, the walls of her pussy clenching on the straining length as she sank down onto him.

“Oh, fuck…..” His hands tightened on her tits, his head falling back as she started to ride him.

He'd only ever fucked his fist before and the feeling of a real, live woman speared on his cock was almost too much. He wanted to look, to see the evidence, watch his dick slide in and out of her, but he was scared that if he glanced down to where their bodies joined, it would be all over, the experience wasted.

She touched his face gently, her fingertips sliding over his cheekbone to his lips.

“You're concentrating so hard on not cumming that you're not fully enjoying it,” she said sadly. “It's ok, Lucas, really. If it happens too soon, we can do it again. And again. And again.”

He looked up at her.

“Really?” he asked. “We can?”

“Of course! I haven't got any plans today. I'm quite happy to spend the entire day in bed with you. Relax, Lucas. Let yourself go…..”

He risked a glance downwards. He could see the peachy fuzz of her pussy hair mingling with his own, thicker fur. She lifted herself obligingly, slowly drawing herself up so he could see the shiny shaft of his cock, glistening with her juices, pull out until only the tip remained, then she sank back down just as deliberately.

“Oh, goddam…..”

He couldn't stop himself. His cock spasmed as he emptied his balls into the slippery heat of her, his hips lifting in little jerks. Years of pent up frustration poured out of him and into her, the expulsion so violent his eyes rolled up into his head and he nearly passed out from the intensity of it.

He was dimly aware that he was making some kind of noise - a wordless, stretched out jumble of consonants that came from somewhere in the middle of a QWERTY keyboard.

Far away, he heard her make her own sound, a throaty sort of purr, and her muscles squeezed on him as she came, pulling yet more jizz from the very depths of his poor balls, strangling it out of them.

He went limp, his hands dropping from her, and his soul seemed to leave his body for a time. He drifted, basking in the sublime feeling of the fading high.

 

When Lucas came back, Violet was snuggled up next to him, her cheek against his shoulder, watching his face.

“Are you okay?” she asked. “I was getting worried.”

“I'm great,” he responded truthfully.

He slung his arm around her, pulling her closer, and she sank comfortably against him, nestling against his flank.

“Did ya think you'd fucked me to death?”

He felt her shrug.

“Wouldn't be the first time,” she confessed.

“Yeah, well - if ya had, it'd be the best way ta go, I reckon.”

He felt her lips press the side of his neck, her arm slithering around his waist.

“What colour's ma aura now?” he asked. “All that pesky pink gone?”

“Oh, yes! Completely. No more Goth Barbie for you.”

“What colour is it now?” 

Violet propped herself up her her elbow and stared down at him, and slowly a wicked little smile spread over her face.

“Still lots of black, you bad boy,” she reported. “But instead of pink, you now have a purple hue to it. One could almost say…...a violet shade.”

She flopped back down next to him, giggling.

“So like maybe yer part o’ me now?” suggested Lucas. 

“It's possible,” she conceded.

Lucas ran his hand over her, gliding over her gentle curves. He liked the idea of Violet insinuating herself into his aura. She rested her chin on his chest and looked up at him.

“Would you tell me your story?” she asked. “I'd like to hear how you became the way you are.”

Lucas considered.

“I guess. Would you tell me yours if I do?”

“Of course.”

 

He told her about the storm. The ship. The child and the woman. The mold. The deaths. The monsters. The cure. His life as it was now.

She listened to all of it, asking intelligent questions, her interest drawing everything out of him.

It felt good to tell someone.

Then she told him her story.

It was about vanity, essentially. Finding her first grey hair when she turned 40 and panicking.

“I was wealthy and spoiled, so I didn't have to marry. I fucked whoever I wanted. The older I got, the younger my partners became. Men. Women. I didn't care. I was immune to social disapproval. But when I saw the evidence of my body aging, I got scared. I was very shallow, you see - my life revolved around pleasure. And I dreaded the day when I'd bed someone and they'd look at my body in disgust….So I found some books and did some rituals, and here I am now. It wasn't a particularly good reason to choose the life I have, but I'm rather stuck with it. If I were to stop the sacrifices, my age would catch up on me in a very short space of time and I'd die. And I don't want that to happen. I'm rather enjoying myself.”

She slung her leg around his, curling up to him like a cat, a twinkle of mischief in her eyes.

“Are you ready for the next round?” she inquired.

Lucas was.

 

They fucked so many times that if Lucas didn't have regenerative powers his dick would have been raw by the end of it. They stopped halfway through the day to eat, sat up in the bed Lucas would quite happily live in, and then they did it some more.

Violet was the perfect partner: Patient, responsive, insatiable, instructive. He wallowed in her, becoming acquainted with every millimetre of her skin, every delectable crevice, always hungry for her, always ready for more.

She was good company, too: Smart and funny and interesting, and by the time night fell and Lucas had spent himself between her legs for the umpteenth time, he was quite prepared to believe that he was in love.

But it couldn't last. Eveline was waiting for him. He had to find some bum and bring him home to her.

“I don't wanna go,” he admitted, cuddled up with her in a tangle of sheets. “Goin’ back there ta the stink o’ it, an’ the dirt, an’ the fuckin’ awful food, after bein’ here……”

He trailed off, unable to put his feelings into words.

Violet ran her fingers down his spine affectionately.

“I understand,” she told him, and he had no doubt that she did.

“An’ you're bound to leave town now, ain't ya?” he grumbled. “Now ya got yer sacrifice outta the way…..”

“Hmm. I think I might stay for a while,” she said.

“I thought ya hated it here?”

“I do. But I like you. You're unique, Lucas. In all this time, I've never met anyone quite like you. I think we could have very interesting times together.”

“With fuckin’?” he asked hopefully.

“Lots of fucking,” she promised.

“But, uh, I got this situation at home…….”

“I know.”

She patted his arm, all brisk and businesslike.

“Leave it with me. I'm sure I can find a way around this.”

As much as he wanted to believe her, Lucas was skeptical, but he he forced himself out of bed and began to dress.

Violet watched him, the silky sheets draped around her hips, and just the sight of her lying there made him want to climb back on.

She smiled. He couldn't keep anything hidden from her.

“Go home, Lucas. And wait. Trust me.”

Lucas nodded. He sensed there was no arguing with the woman.

“I got all sorts o’ shit to do,” he grumped as he zipped up his hoodie. “Gotta find Eveline a fuckin’ friend, for starters…..”

“That's all taken care of,” Violet assured him.

He raised a questioning eyebrow.

“Look in the back of the van,” she said.

“My van!”

In all the excitement he'd completely forgotten about his van, in the field by the farm. It had no doubt been taken in for evidence by the police, and they'd find out a whole lot about him from it.

“Shit….” he groaned.

“Your van is parked outside, Lucas. And I left you a present in it.”

“It is? You did? How….?”

He shook his head. Never ask her how.

She had that mischievous look in her eye again.

“See you soon, Lucas,” she said.

 

His van was parked where her car had been, the keys in the ignition.

Stupefied, Lucas walked around to the back of the van and opened the doors.

A young man, dirty and ragged, was bound and gagged inside. He made muffled entreaties as Lucas stared at him - entreaties that were cut off abruptly when Lucas slammed the doors shut.

“Well, shit,” he marvelled to himself as he climbed into the driver's seat. “Woman done took care o’ everythin’.....”

Whistling happily to himself, he drove home.

 

Days passed, and Lucas began to give up hope.

Eveline had been pleased with her new friend, but she was mad at Lucas for staying away so long, and she wouldn't let him leave the house again for a while, keeping him prisoner to play games with her.

He'd lived under the child's reign for three years, two under her control, one pretending to be, and though it had been hard, he'd gotten used to it - even revelled in the power of his existence at times. But after being with Violet for that short time and sampling the many delights of her home and her body, coming back to the shitty, tumbledown mansion made him depressed.

Everything was devoid of colour and life here. He couldn't have a decent conversation or eat decent food. He couldn't fuck. Life suddenly seemed very bleak.

Boredom made him callous. He used the prisoners as a diversion, stealing a man called Clancy away from his mother and playing sadistic little games with him. He pitted him against another hapless contestant, giving him hope only to snatch it away from him, setting him up for failure. But even Clancy’s horrific demise only cheered him up in the short term. In the end, the man's death meant very little.

Lucas began to worry about himself. Surrounded by insanity, trapped in degradation, he didn't seem to have much purpose.

 

The weeks stretched on.

Lucas was sat on the floor, listlessly playing a board game with Eveline. She had picked up on his mood and had suggested the game to cheer him up, but he knew her ways well enough to suspect that she merely wanted an excuse to play.

He hated playing with Eveline. She always had to win.

The child rolled the dice.

“I got a 5! Yay! Oh boy, it looks like I'm going to win again!”

“Fancy that,” muttered Lucas.

He watched her move her counter along the squares before picking up the dice himself.

He threw a 3.

His green counter was three squares away from the bottom of a long ladder, and he felt a sudden surge of rebellion. Usually, he would pretend to miscount, or would “accidentally” knock the dice aside to get a different number, but this time he picked up his counter and with deliberate slowness counted along the board.

“One...two….three….oh, would ya look at that! I’m goin’ straight up this here ladder. Right past Eveline!”

He slid the counter up the ladder.

“Looks like I'm winnin’,” he observed.

Eveline scowled at him.

“You haven't won yet…..”  she hissed, picking up the dice and shaking it vigorously.

Her next throw took her to a snake's head, and though she tried to overshoot it, Lucas pointed out her mistake.

Eveline’s expression was very dark as she trailed her counter along the snake's back, down several rows.

Lucas sniggered and picked up the dice again, throwing a six.

“Well, shit! Looks like my luck is holdin’ out!” he crowed, counting along six squares.

Eveline’s fists were clenched.

“Lucas…..” she warned.

“Hey, I can't help it!” he said. “Can't argue with the laws o’ physics!”

Eveline threw a measly 1, and Lucas chuckled, merciless in his impending victory.

Mia had drifted in to watch, her face a picture of horror as Lucas’s counter advanced towards the finish. He grinned up at her. Shit was going hit the fan, and it was going to be splendid.

He laughed uncontrollably as Eveline was sent down a snake again, her face clouding over further. There was a hit of adrenaline coursing through his system. Mia cringed as he tossed the dice, his yell of triumph reverberating throigh the house as he landed on the finishing square, pumping the air with his fist.

“Yeah! I fuckin’ won! In yer face, Eveline!”

He bared his teeth at her in a grin, watching as her features contorted in rage. Mia ran from the room, not wanting to get caught up in the drama.

“Daddy Jack!” screeched Eveline, sweeping the board aside with a petulant jerk of her arm. “LUCAS IS CHEATING!”

Lucas heard his father's footsteps thumping as they approached, but he didn't care. Whatever happened to him, he would overcome, no matter how painful, and at least it would be  _ something _ , goddamit!  _ Something _ he had control over, even if it was winning a shitty kid's game.

He got to his feet, ready for the standoff.

But it never came.

Just as his father emerged through the doorway, his sharpened shovel swinging from his fist, there was a knock at the front door.

Everybody froze.

“Who's that?” asked Eveline, thunderstruck. “I didn't feel anyone coming!”

There was silence as they stood, listening.

The knock came again.

“Go answer it, Daddy Jack,” decided Eveline.

She tried to sound as imperious as she always did, but Lucas could detect a tone in her voice he hadn't heard before. It sounded like fear.

Jack turned in the doorway and began to walk down the hall, but before he had taken three steps there was a huge bang, accompanied by the splintering of wood, and a gust of freezing air swept through the house.

“What the  _ fuck? _ ”

Lucas crowded up behind his astonished father, who had stopped in his tracks at the immense sound.

“Who is it?” demanded Eveline, her voice quavering. “They don't feel right! Who  _ is it? _ ”

Marguerite joined them, nervous swarms of bugs circling her head.

“What's goin’ on, Jack? What was that noise?”

“I don't know,” he growled. “But I'm fixin’ ta find out……”

Clutching his shovel, he advanced along the hall, his family - minus Mia and Zoe - following cautiously behind.

There was a smell in the cold air that wafted in - a sweet aroma, musky and flowery. Lucas pushed past Jack impatiently, his feet carrying him rapidly towards the front door.

Footsteps were coming towards them - the dainty click of heels, close together, brisk.

They turned the corner, and there was Violet, her hair tossed by the frigid wind as she swayed towards them on her stilletos.

She smiled.

“Lucas, darling! I'm sorry it took me so long - unavoidable business, I'm afraid. Sorry about the door, too. I don't like being kept waiting.”

“Who the fuck are you?” roared Jack, brandishing his weapon.

Violet glanced at him.

“This must be your father?” she said, looking him up and down. “I do see a resemblance. Pleased to meet you, Mr Baker.”

Jack ignored the proffered hand she extended, raising his shovel above his head, and Lucas darted forward, preparing to intervene, but Violet merely frowned, standing her ground.

Jack stopped in his tracks, cursing as he struggled with his weapon, straining his arms against the handle, but it appeared to be stuck in midair.

“Wnat have you done, bitch?” he snarled.

“I must say, all I've heard about Southern hospitality has been woefully innaccurate,” remarked Violet, looking disappointed. “Do you always greet guests like this?”

She looked towards Marguerite.

“I'd rather expected to be offered home made lemonade,” she said pointedly.

With a cry of fury, Marguerite thrust her hips forward, clouds of stinging bugs bursting from beneath the hem of her skirt.

“Get outta my home, whore!” she shrieked as the insects swarmed towards the intruder.

Violet sighed.

The bugs came within a few feet of her, buzzing angrily, and stopped as though they'd hit a wall, each of them folding their wings as they fluttered to the floor, dead. Violet kicked them aside with the pointed toe of her shoe.

“My babies!” wailed Marguerite, falling to her knees, scooping the tiny corpses up into her arms.

Violet fixed her gaze on Eveline.

“I know who you are,” she said sternly. “Are you going to give me any trouble?”

Eveline took a step backwards, glancing desperately from side to side. She seemed to know that there would be no help forthcoming from Lucas, and shouted back over her shoulder.

“Mommy!” she called. “Come quickly!”

She was answered by silence.

“I'm afraid she won't be coming,” reported Violet. “She's having a lovely sleep. And as for your pets…...well, think of my mind as a bottle of strong bleach in a commercial, whisking through the house, leaving a gleaming trail behind it. No more mold.”

The two females stared at eachother. Lucas stood off to one side, too wise to get involved. He couldn't take his eyes off Violet - she looked better than ever, her tight black dress clinging over the swells of her hourglass figure, her skin seeming to glow in the dingy gloom of the decrepit house.

Eveline pouted.

“I don't like you!” she howled. “You're a meanie!”

“And you're a spoiled little cow,” returned Violet. “But I think there's hope for you. You have potential.”

Eveline faltered.

“I do?”

“Oh, yes. With proper teaching, you could be remarkable. But you've had your own way for far too long.”

Hesitant, Eveline approached her, picking her way through the heaps of dead bugs, brushing past Jack who was still glued to the spot, grappling uselessly with his suspended shovel. She looked up at Violet with awe in her face.

“Would you teach me?” she asked.

Violet looked reproachful.

“What's the magic word?” she said.

Eveline paused, hanging her head.

“Please…..?” she answered in a small voice.

Violet beamed at her.

“Yes. I will. But you will have to do as you're told. And stop bullying this poor family. Understood?”

Eveline nodded.

“Good. Well. First things first.”

Violet clapped her hands briskly, drawing Jack and Marguerite’s attention towards her.

“Right. I'm in charge from now on. I don't want any nonsense. You have to clean this place up. Mr Baker? Put that thing down and go get a hammer instead. You're to start fixing all this damage. Money is no object - I'll supply what's needed. Get contractors in if you must. Mrs Baker? Get scrubbing. I want this place  _ spotless, _ do you hear?”

Jack and Marguerite nodded dumbly before wandering off to do as they were told.

“Eveline?”

Eveline  snapped to attention.

“You're to go and fetch Zoe from the trailer. Tell her this place is under new management, and she's welcome to move back in.”

“What about Mommy?” asked Eveline.

“Let her sleep. The woman needs a rest. I'll speak with her later.”

Eveline scurried off.

Violet turned to Lucas.

“What d’you want me to do?” he asked, ready to jump into action.

Violet considered.

“Is there a reasonably clean bedroom anywhere in this house?” she asked.

He nodded.

“Then go there and wait for me. I'll be up shortly. Oh, and Lucas?”

“Yeah?” 

“Be naked.”

Lucas ran happily for the stairs, already unzipping his hoodie.


End file.
